


Blind in the Light and Deaf with the Music

by Kurai_Ferox



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Blind Character, Deaf Character, Demons, Gen, Heavy Angst, Very triggering, not for the faint hearted, or for little kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 15:10:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15051911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurai_Ferox/pseuds/Kurai_Ferox
Summary: Seeing only darkness and hearing silence; they are the ingredients for a wretched life.Feeling the demons claw around, blinding everything until nothing is left; that is the reason for sadness.Wishing to die, but yearning to truly live; that is the life of a doll.Feelings wash away until there is only a mask left; a shell of a person who once was, but no longer is.





	Blind in the Light and Deaf with the Music

**Author's Note:**

> This is an original piece of work. Anyone who steals/ plagiarizes it will be reported with no hesitation. 
> 
>  
> 
> Dedicated to my beloved family who live miles away from me, and who I miss dearly and hold close to my heart;
> 
> Didi, you are the best. Stay safe and take care of yourself. Have fun and travel around; we will visit you soon enough. I miss you a lot, and I love you even more.
> 
> Uncle, thank you for the meaningful gift. It means a lot to me, and I refuse to part from it. Good luck with your growing business; you are doing so well! I miss you, and I love you!
> 
> My Pukulu, my angel, my star; listen to your parents and stay happy. Keep drawing, keep singing, keep enjoying life. I miss you more than you will ever know, and I love you to the ends of the Earth. I will be with you before you even know it, so don't be sad, my love.

Silence. Nothing breathes, nothing moves. It's stifling. It's the one thing that is impossible to gain, but when it arrives, it arrives so soundlessly that no one even knows that it's there. Yet, somehow, its presence is noticed by all. 

Sound. It signifies life; the wind blowing, the birds chirping, children screaming, cars honking. It's so beautiful, so inspiring. It's so alive. It never leaves, but when it dissipates, nothing is the same. It slowly comes back in gentle waves that push off the silence, but a tear is still formed; an unmendable tear. 

Sometimes, I wish that I was different. People always tell me, "Life will get better, so don't end it now." But they never understand; in fact, I doubt they ever will. They don't understand that living in a world of darkness is like living in the depths of Hell. They don't understand that I cannot see the light and colors; only shadows and monochrome tones. They don't understand that I am a stranger in my own universe, in my own world and in my own home. Even though my heart keeps beating, my mind is dead. Some days, I feel as if I have no soul. Those are the days that I hate the most. 

The one thing that I would give up my very essence for would be freedom; pure, sweet, undulated freedom. Freedom from this darkness, from this Hell. Freedom from the demons that inhabit this Earth, freedom from this pain. I just want to be free; to be able to run and jump and scream out, "Look where I stand! And it was  _never_ thanks to you! I did it by myself!" 

I feel as if there are walls around me, constricting me, choking me. I gasp out and lunge forward, trying to grasp the fleeting light, only to remember,  _in my world, there is no brightness, and there is no music. There is only darkness and silence, and pain. Pain that surrounds me, encases me, **drowns**_ _me_. This is my life, but it might be my death as well. 

Between a gun and a knife, I will always choose the knife. A gun only has so much ability, so much use. There is only a certain amount of shots that can be fired, and if each shot fails to meet its intended mark, then it's game over. But a knife, a knife is so much more versatile. There is no limit to the damage that can be inflicted. Even so, one must take caution when using a weapon against another person. After all, some people deserve pleasure, while others deserve excruciating torture. 

When a rose thorn pricks my finger, I wish I could see the blood that seeps out of the cut, the liquid that flows through my veins, bringing life into every cell of my body. I wish I could hear the rasping of my elderly father and the sobs of my younger kin, but even more, I wish I could see the unity of the people around me and hear their melodious chants as they call upon the Gods in the Heavens. Most times, I feel thrilled for them, grateful that they don't have to survive the hellish days that I do, but there are days when I lose control of my mind, and I curse everything out. I scream at my family, preaching on about how there is no god in this world. Because if there is a heavenly being out there, then why am I the only one who has to suffer? Why can't anyone come to save me? I know the answer, but it still doesn't salvage me. Instead, it pushes me deeper into my madness.

When I was very little, I used to believe in angels. I used to believe that they were the protectors, and they would come to whisk me away into their own little havens. Instead, there were only demons and devils, swarming around me, trying to take control of the darkness in my eyes and the weakness in my feeble heart. By the time they retreated back into their homes, my heart had been turned black as well. 

At times, I feel a burn deep in my soul, urging me to find someone to give my life and soul to. But every time, I manage to hold back. There is not a single being on this planet, be it a male or female,  who would be willing to accept me as I am; all dark and no light, with neither the will to speak nor the means to listen. If I happen to meet someone like that though, I know that I would change my very body to please them as long as they would stay by my side. 

On extremely peculiar days, I find myself wondering,  _What would it take to contract a devil?_ I can't say that I would do because my life is that bad; I would do it because I am that bored. Besides, darkness has always clung to me; I might as well contract one of its agents. 

For most people, boredom is a trivial thing; they find something mundane that alleviates their mind to something else. But for me, that is one of the best moment for the demons to haunt me. They whisper in my ear and slither into my brain, hunting for a weakness,  _any_ weakness. Those times, I usually have to find a way to outsmart them to be able to live for just one more day. My body and my mind are extremely peculiar; one moment I want to die, but the next I want to breathe in deeply and enjoy life. I should decide quickly; I feel as if my time is running out. 

Black cats are usually considered bad luck by the human population. Some extremists go as far as to say that the black cats are possessed by demons. But I find them to be pleasant company, even better than the humans who constantly cheat and lie. During some moonless nights, I actually do wish for one of the cats to turn into a beautiful but mysterious demon. If that were to happen I would finally be able to see the dreaded world which I inhabit with an unconditionally loyal companion.

As I go through the days of my life, I've learned that my world is very upside-down compared to the world of a normal person. For me, darkness is normal, and my angels are also my demons. My faith is in violence, not peace. Sometimes, I question my sanity. Most of the time though, I ignore everything and I hide. I hide behind a mask so that none of the tears can leak out. But, once every blue moon, a tear manages to slip through the cracks. 

I have lost all my faith in humanity; there is nothing that exists out of pure kindness with society. There is always some sort of back-stabbing going on behind the screen, and by the time the deal is sealed, a lot of blood has already been spilled. What's really ironic is that there is a strange yearning for peace from the people, even though it is the people who insist on causing the rivers of blood to flow. It just goes to show that humanity is far to deluded to be able to survive any longer. After all, how can peace be found in bloodshed? I might as well go on living as I do; a doll, a doll that is just waiting for death. My mind might be insane, but I am the sanest person in this world. I know that I have my devils and I embrace them. I welcome the pure and the unholy, and I disregard those that are toxic to me. I respect the good, and I worship my god, who is also the king of the devils. I know where I stand, and I know where I will fall. If humanity will manage to learn what I have learned in my short time, then there is still a ray of hope. If not, then I can happily free-fall my way to the Underworld, my beloved home all along, and I can watch them at last as they fall with their final grace shattered. Because in the end, every human has a demon inside. 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that happened. I'd like to add a few notes:  
> No. I am not depressed. No, this character was not inspired by me or someone I know. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to a person, passed or existing, is not intended.
> 
> I wanted to change my writing style, so this came out. However, if you need someone to talk to, I am here, and I am willing to listen, even if no one else does. No one has to suffer alone. Scratch that; no one has to suffer at all. So if you are, and no one is listening, then PM me. I will always listen.
> 
> Not a single thing in this is true, not about me, anway. I just wanted to let everyone know that.
> 
> Okay, I am off to write a happy piece. This one squeezed my brain way to hard. It took weeks to complete this. DX


End file.
